I took my new FiveFingers with me to the office today, and about half way through the day I put them on. I felt vaguely transgressive.
How pathetic is it that my shoe choices seem transgressive? What's worse, how pathetic is it that I enjoyed feeling vaguely transgressive?
I'm acting out by wearing shoes. How's that for a deep and meaningful rebellion? Not so much, is it?
We're going to retreat tomorrow to the sportsman's (yes, man's) club with the deer ass (and many other dead animal parts) on the wall, because that's how we roll here.
I may wear my new FiveFingers, and enjoy the vague transgressiveness.
They are increasingly comfy.